


Nun School

by idharao



Category: Doctor Who & Related Fandoms, Tatennant - Fandom
Genre: Dressing Room Sex, F/M, schoolgirl
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-22
Updated: 2012-09-22
Packaged: 2017-11-14 19:38:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 969
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/518805
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/idharao/pseuds/idharao
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>David really likes the Lauren Cooper uniform.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Nun School

    "Oh, my god," he says when she emerges from the dressing room with the Lauren Cooper schoolgirl uniform on. In addition to the short, pleated skirt and the button-up collared shirt, she has a sweater crossed between her breasts, which are still visible despite the looseness of the shirt. She has on multicolored wool tights and obnoxious, clunky shoes.  
    She's positively mouthwatering.   
    They haven't taken her to makeup yet to get the huge crimped ponytail put in, so her hair is wild about her shoulders with its natural wave. She smells delicious, fresh and clean like after a shower.  
    "Are you kidding me?" he says.   
    She smiles at him, a blossoming. "What?"  
    "Fuckin' hell, Catherine," he says, frankly.  
    "D'you like it?" she asks, smug as can be. She knows he loves it. She smiles at him and adoration mingles with her delight.  
    He grins at her and doesn't answer. She knows.  
    What he sees when he looks at Catherine in costume, and what others see, are clearly two very different things. He sees the mile-long legs and the slim waist, the uncontainable breasts underneath a shirt that's loose for decency's sake. She still ties that sweater around her like a possessive embrace, though, and rolls her skirt very short. He imagines this is all pulled from real life. "You wench," he says, consuming her visually. "This is why they kicked you out of nun school."  
    That makes her laugh her loud, genuine laugh. It's even sexier now.  
    "I really like it," he says. "D'you think you could wear it later?"  
    "For what?" she asks.  
    "For me," he says, and she smiles again.  
    "Oh," she says. "Oh. Of course, darling. It only wants the asking." Then she laughs at a thought. "You want me to wear the huge ponytail?"  
    "No," he says, smiling. "I want your hair. Just… you could just wear the skirt, really, but the whole thing'll do."   
    She gives him a wicked smile. "Done."   
    He pulls her close, cradling her hips in that way he knows how to do. He kisses her, their lips brushing, meeting, and melding. She opens her mouth under his. When he lets her go she says, "You're a scoundrel."  
    "Am I?" he asks, amused.  
    "Yes, and I've got an idea," she says. "Something you can do."  
    "Oh?" More questions, more of that amused and tender smile.  
    "You could always be… Mr. Logan."  
    There is a pause. "You're wicked," he says.  
    "No, I'm a genius," she replies. "Admit it, you love it."      
    "Catherine," he says, smiling, promising, "you come to my dressing room after this rehearsal in that skirt and I will do whatever you want."  
    A delicious guarantee.  
    "I didn't know you liked the schoolgirl look," she teases.       
    "On you," he says.  
    On set she throws him one or two looks from under her lashes, a quick glance of promise, that she hasn't forgotten anything. They rehearse like the professionals that they are, and no one has any idea.  
  
* * * *   
  
    Later in the afternoon she's perched on his vanity table, back to the mirror, knees on either side of his hips. The skirt is up around her hips, shoes, sweater and tights abandoned on the floor, the shirt unbuttoned to her navel. Her head is tilted back and he's got one hand on her thigh, bracing her against him. The other hand is working between her legs. Her mouth is open but her eyes are closed, and he knows exactly what she likes.  
    To make him laugh she calls him "sir" and gives him lip. That goes away, however, and the words are replaced by noises. Good noises. He likes that.  
    "Come here," he says to her, low, moving his hand and pulling her onto her feet. "Turn around." He turns her by the hips so that she can see her reflection in the mirror, her breasts spilling out of her unbuttoned shirt, the skirt in total disarray, her hair flying. She looks ready for him.  
    She hears the sound of his zipper and the fumbling of his hand. The other rests on her hip, just lightly, but she's not going anywhere. This is what she's been waiting for all day long.  
    She says a very unladylike word mixed with a moan he'll probably never forget, and drops forward onto her hands. Because it isn't the first time this has happened, they have a modus operandi. She bares her teeth at him in the mirror and then laughs, and he grins at her and lands a solid smack on her behind. She feels her hair bouncing and swinging gently around her shoulders.  
    She wants it to go on forever but in reality they probably don't have very long, so when he drops his hand down between her legs again she lets him move them along. He's good at this, always has been, and in very little time she feels her whole body wind up like a spring. It's the best she's felt in ages. She puts her head down onto her forearms and moans, muffling herself. She feels him stiffen and shudder, and he says, "Oh, _fuck_ \--" and pulls her tight against him.  
    He stays with her for a few moments after that, both of them laughing and breathing hard. "Oh, yes," she says, contentedly. When he moves back and away she turns around and smooths the skirt down over her thighs. He kisses her with calm languidness, the peaceful little burst of happiness she gets from him.   
    Makes all the secrecy so worth it.  
    She strips and changes right in front of him and folds the costume neatly. "Fuck," she murmurs. "They're going to want to know how I lost a button."  
    "Lie," he says, and they both laugh.  
    "Obviously."  
    He shoos her out the door with a kiss and a smile.


End file.
